


The Marks On Your Skin

by QuantumAlice



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Failed smut, Gen, Genderswap, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Malex, Oh My God, Slow Burn, Takes place in season 1, Work In Progress, i wrote this instead of working
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22644433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuantumAlice/pseuds/QuantumAlice
Summary: His father's markings has changed and Michael doesn't know what to do with that.
Relationships: Alex Lannon & Michael, Alex Lannon/Michael
Comments: 16
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *peeks out*
> 
> Erm... Hiya! It's been... years as you all well know and to be honest I've been having a really hard time writing. Like... REALLY hard time writing, it was to the point where I couldn't manage a sentence. Anyhow... while that's not quite behind me I have overcome a hurdle soooo yay for small victories! :) 
> 
> But enough of that, lately I've been trying to get my head back in the game regarding my Dominion fanfics. So while I was going over my Lesson Series for the umpteenth time this idea popped up and well... yeah here you go. At this point I'm up for anything to get me back in the writing groove!!
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own and I'm sorry.

It was late in the city of Vega, most of her residents had long since retired for the night. He should too; after all Michael knows what tomorrow brings. Yet for the archangel, rest or what passes for it eludes him.

He glanced from the open window of his eyrie back into his room, his sky blue eyes briefly resting on a closed door before looking away.

 _Well that and other things…_ the angel mused to himself. Giving a heavy and wearisome sigh, Michael brings his attention back not to the skyline stretched out before him, but to a small unassuming book.

The Apocrypha, an item he’d fought so hard to get for his ward, stressed the extreme importance of, _several times_ , for it had been so, even if his charge couldn’t see it at first, now rests listlessly in his lap because he, Archangel Michael, could barely keep his attention on the damn thing for more than five minutes at a time.

In his heart of hearts Michael just wanted everything to go back to normal, but that was something he’d never admit to aloud. Instead it was to be a secret the archangel kept forever guarded close to his chest. If he were to be honest with himself, his mind was heavy with recent events.

Michael was tired. The archangel hadn’t had a moment’s peace in… heaven knows how long. He was tired of fighting his kin, who acted more like demons then the supposed “angels” they were. He’d long grown weary of fighting his brother and twin Gabriel; he yearns for the closeness and comradery the two once shared so long ago. He tired of his sister Uriel antics and her flip flopping loyalties.

Not to mention the constant plotting and backhanded scheming going on within Vega. The whole thing… all of it was beyond tiresome.

And Alex…

Alex… well that was a whole other thing all into itself.

Yet the archangel knew he had to endure, he couldn’t give into the temptation of despair. _However,_ he thinks, _there will be nothing more I can learn from this tonight._ With a soft, nearly inaudible sigh Michael snaps shut the Apocrypha, giving up all pretenses of reading it. Instead the archangel stood, his tall, lanky form striding over to stand at the eyrie window. For a long while Michael simply gaze down at the city.

It was a rare moment of stillness, and for an instant everything was normal. As if the apocalypse never happened, as if the war between his kin never happened and there were no such things as eight balls and the prophecy of the chosen one didn’t matter. All was as well as it could be on Earth. Closing his eyes, Michael cleared his mind of all his tumultuous thoughts and just allowed himself that moment of nothingness.

It felt good, really good.

“Um… Michael? Can I have a word?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short but I've already started working on the next part. That should be up soon! Please tell me what you think! Any feedback you can give will be greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex as something on her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O.O *gasps* Eziliveve!! you remembered me after all this time!! lol Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos! I really appreciate it!
> 
> For those who are new to my Malax head canon, my Alex Lannon is a black female. I was inspired by Nicole Beharie of Sleepy Hollow because she shares a lot of traits as her male counterpart. PLUS she's just so adorkable and cute! I may or may not have a girl crush on her! :D

At the sound of Alex’s voice, his eyes snapped open. The archangel straightens his posture turning to face his ward, all the while being careful not to give away his thoughts. Not that it would have mattered anyhow, for Michael can tell simply by her tone that something was not right. She was worried.

When he sees her, she’s standing by his bed, face pinched and pensive. He notes that she was fresh from the shower, with one hand resting on the bedpost, the other clutching at the top of an overly large, fluffy yellow towel she’d wrapped herself in. Michael lets his gaze flicker to the markings, the one’s visible against the rosiness of her brown skin, stood out ever more so than usual.

The sight of her, in such a vulnerable position, struck a chord buried deep inside the archangel. It makes him realize just how _young_ she really was. Despite all the trials and tribulations they’ve shared, it’s easy enough to forget that Alex herself had just turned 25 years old.

All this information, he gleams in mere seconds as he greets with, “Yes Alex?” When she doesn’t immediately respond, he tilts his head to the side and watches her expression with reservation.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering, Alex chews her bottom lip. Her gaze sliding from Michael’s to some random spot in his room. Although the archangel says nothing, it doesn’t escape his notice that the hand on the post grips the wood just ever so tightly.

 _She’s nervous._ Michael thinks, _but why?_ This sudden and uncharacteristic side of Alex left the archangel intrigued. He was curious as to the reason behind it, for he can’t ever recall seeing such an expression before.

So in an effort to make his ward feel more at ease, Michael intentionally brings himself down to her level by sitting on the edge of his rounded bed.

“Alex you can tell me anything. You know this right?” he declares in the most comforting tone he can give. The soldier still doesn’t’ look at him, but she does at least nod her head murmuring softly, “I know Michael…” before falling silent again.

At this moment Michael is grateful for the patience he’s cultivated over the last several millennia, for it’s that reason alone he’s able to sit there and wait for Alex to tell him what’s really on her mind. He knows she can feel his stare, though she’s doing her best to appear unaffected. After a while Michael hears her utter a curse of, _Gah dammit all!_ She then turns back to him, her face mutinous and strangely childlike.

“The markings…” she begins hesitantly and for a moment the icy grasp of fear grips the archangel. It takes everything in his power not to betray that fear on his face, nor to let his eye fall anywhere from hers.

“Yes?” He pressed when she still had yet to say anything more. Internally he winced at the touch of desperation that colored his voice. However the archangel couldn’t help it, everything in him was screaming “red alert” and while he forced himself not to visibly react. The most he would allow himself to do was to lean forward, rest his arms on his knees and lace his slender fingers together.

“The markings” Alex repeats, her dark eyes finally resting back on the angel, “they’ve changed.” Michael’s brow disappears into his forehead and he allows himself a brief glance at the object in question.

“Changed? How? In what way?” He tried to keep his tone light, but he couldn’t help the sense of urgency that slipped through. Alex shifts restlessly, as if she didn’t want to really answer the question. Her eyes fell to the floor, and she stares at the plush throw rug she’s standing on, wiggling her toes in the super soft material in an absent manner. However, she stopped just as soon as she’d started when the soldier realized what she was doing.

Her head shot back up and her face once more filled with its usual determined expression.

“The writing is different; evolved in some way? I still can’t read it, but I can definitely see the difference. And… well there’s something else too.” Alex paused, shifting her weight once more from one foot to the other and back again.

“Yes?” Michael encourages with a semblance of patience he didn’t remotely feel. “Well” his ward continues, “they’ve spread and well… some… some are _moving.”_

“Moving? How? In what fashion?” At this Alex sighs wearily, she shifts around even more so than before, and her eyes darts away from Michael’s unflinching stare. The hand on the towel clenches just so and Alex bites her lip.

“It’s best if I show you rather than try to explain.” She tells him, her voice rigid and somewhat detached. Or that’s at least the image she’s going for; Michael however, can hear the same traces of nervousness from earlier, though he doesn’t acknowledge it for Alex’s sake.

Even so his sky blue eyes miss nothing as he watches the soldier take a deep breath, observe her steel her frayed nerves, before finally unraveling the towel and letting it drop to the floor.

She stands there stiff spine, stone faced and silent. The only visible sign of her distress came in the form of her fists balled at her sides. She’s laid herself completely bare before the archangel awaiting his judgment.

“Well… there you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I'm pretty satisfied on how it came out. I was glad I was able to make it a little longer then the previous chapter. Now I can't promise updates everyday but I'm gonna do my best to see THIS story to its end. Its helped that I have A LOT of this pre written. So when I do type it I can make some minor adjustments as I go. I will be honest and tell you all I am gonna reach a part of the story where I'm struggling with.
> 
> However I shouldn't hit that roadblock for at least another chapter or so.
> 
> Anywho let me know what you think! Thank you so much for even reading this! ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like a half remembered dream, there is something so familiar and yet so foreign about these new glyphs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks* Hi! Soooo I had about half of this written since last Thursday. However I just had a hard time getting my thoughts together. Plus I wrote this in two different notebooks, which didn't help me AT ALL, because I didn't know which version I wanted to go with. 
> 
> *shrugs* In the end I used both lol. 
> 
> *waves to her reviewers* I see you guys!! I LOVE YOU ALL!! Thanks for all the kudos and comments! It really kept me going. Please tell me what you think!
> 
> And remember this is un'beta'd! So all mistakes are my own!

The atmosphere in the room hung thick and heavy with a palpable silence. Despite his outwardly calm facade, Michael knows that his next course of action will dictate whether or not his charge stays put or bolts back into the bathroom. So with careful and deliberate movements the archangel holds out his hand, palm up for the soldier to take.

“Come here.” He tells her softly, taking no further action until his ward makes those first tentative steps in his direction. In a slow, almost timid manner Alex reached for him, laying her small, petite brown hand in his. Pulling her closer (but not too close given her unusual mood) Michael finally allows himself a full, unrestricted look at her markings.

And what the angel sees, makes him scowl.

Slowly his eyes traced the new and unfamiliar script painted upon her skin. They moved with an otherworldly grace, dancing to and fro, here and there. It was as she said, the markings, fathers final words, carried for the last 25 years by him, then Jeep and finally Alex, had indeed changed or, better still evolved.

No longer were they contained to just her arms and upper shoulders, they’ve branched out, traveling down her torso. Twisting in a delicate fashion, spreading in a manner akin to ivy composed of a divine intaglio. Glyph blossoms bloom along the sides of her breasts, encircling her dusty brown areola and nipples leaving them taut and erect. More of the sacred script spirals along her abdomen, curves along her shapely hips and backside, disappearing briefly, until they reappear twining down her lean tone legs.

“Turn around.” Michael commands, voice hoarse with an odd sort of reverence. He’s trying to memorize each and every new pattern of script and glyph. These were his father’s words, his final testament and the final prophecy which Michael spent the last quarter of a century fighting to protect.

What did it mean? Even after all this time, the archangel still had no answer.

Michael, without realizing it, had reached for her wrist and pulled Alex closer to him. The Archangel felt like he’d seen this script before, but couldn’t place where. It wasn’t Enochian, but something far older, that much his instinct told him. His blue eyes darkening in concentration as he studies them, he feels like he should know their meaning. He’d always had. The angel likened the phenomenon to a half forgotten dream; its details frustratingly vague but still nagging at him.

And he doesn’t know how to feel about it, so instead of dwelling on those “feelings”, he turns his attention elsewhere.

“Are you sure you can’t read them?” Michael asks as he glanced up at his ward. He knows he’s pressing the issue, but he had to be sure. If there was just the slightest hint of doubt or the slightest bit of hope otherwise… well he just had to know.

Alex twists a bit, tossing Michael a look over her shoulder. Her expression is somewhat grim and moody with an underlining tinge of aggravation.

“I’m 1000% sure I can’t read them! I barely understood the first set and now _this_ happens! What the ever loving fuck Michael! Why can’t we ever catch a break?” She heaves a frustrated sigh that Michael thinks was drawn from the very depths of her soul. The archangel sympathizes with his ward, he really does. And if he was honest with himself, deep down in that secret part of him, Michael too felt the same way.

However, he doesn’t tell her that, instead the archangel returns his attention to the ever changing swirls, which twists and twines up the smooth expanse of her back. His fingers twitched with anticipation at the thought of contact with her skin. They hover, just so, above the spirals, tendrils and glyphs. He longs to touch them, uncover their secrets, decipher their meaning. They tantalize him so and after a moment, he gives into temptation.

It starts with a single pale digit running up the delicate seam of her spine. Michael makes sure to keep his touch as light and unintrusive as possible. Even so, his actions bring upon a series of shivers and shudders from the soldier in such an abrupt manner that Michael had to pause his ministrations.

“Are you alright Alex?” He asks, tilting his head in a quizzical fashion. She looks over her shoulder again an ambivalent smile quirked on her lips.

“Wha… What…” Alex stops, clears her throat and tries again, “Just what are you doing back there?”

“Trying to understand,” Michael states plainly, “I feel like I should know them… but I’ve never seen such script before in my life and I know _all_ the words of man and God. It’s… frustrating.”

“Well that makes two of us…” his ward mutters wryly with a roll of her dark eyes. She goes to turn back around, but Michael stops her with a gesture. He pulls at her wrists until Alex is once again face to face with him. His keen blue gaze makes note of the pensive expression and somewhat defensive posture. Her body language practically radiates her elevated emotional state. It’s a deadly cocktail of confusion, frustration, uncertainty and fear.

Michael doesn’t like that look on her, so he reached a hand and places it under her chin, tilting it up just so until her deep brown eyes meets his. The other he rests on the curve of her hips.

“Alex we will get through this together.” He vows. Meaning it with every fiber of his being, “I carried Father’s words too, so I, more than anyone here understand the burden they bring. The answer is out there, somewhere; otherwise Father would have chosen some other method to get his message across. But know this, we _will_ solve this thing together Alex. You and _I_. You’re not alone I will be with you every step of the way.”

He takes a hand from her cheek and rests it on her heart. “As much as I care about these markings, I care about _you_ even more so.”

Throughout this entire exchange Alex had remained silent, though her face soon became clouded with a mixture of emotions that passed by in rapid succession. Unperturbed, Michael kept his gaze steady and unwavering. Finally, after some time, her countenance settles into something familiar and mischievous.

“I suppose if I must have someone at my side throughout all… _this_. Heaven’s own sword isn’t a bad option.”

Michael smirks at the sentiment, “Do you mind if I finish studying these?” he asks softly, his eye briefly glancing over the script.

“Can I have tomorrow off?” The soldier counters with a grin. Michael frowns. He was not impressed.

“I can let you work 2nd shift.”

“2nd shift!? C’mon Michael! This change of events surely earns me a full day off! Plus!” Alex rushes on when it looked like Michael was about to interrupt the soldier, “ _Plus_! You’ll get more time to study them!”

Michael’s frown morphs into a scowl; however his ward remained completely unbothered. After a moment the archangel rolls his eyes.

“Fine, you have tomorrow’s rotation off. But! You still have to train with me is that clear?” Alex makes a face, but it’s the archangel turn to remain unfazed.

“Urgh! You drive a hard bargain Archangel, but you have yourself a deal.”

Michael smirks. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's short but I've already started working on the next part. That should be up soon! Please tell me what you think! Any feedback you can give will be greatly appreciated!


End file.
